After that, a few months passed—give or take.

Nearly a year had gone by since Shel and Hilna left Ipoli.

Hilna had aced every single subject in her first semester at the Divine Academy.

She’d even earned the honor of presenting a gift to His Holiness the Pope on behalf of all students during the New Year’s Dawn Prayer.

The only trouble she faced came from a few envious classmates who tried to frame her for stealing relics from the Academy.

But their clumsy scheme was easily seen through by the nuns in charge.

At Hilna’s insistence, they were all expelled.

Lofna happily wrote to her teacher: this year’s harvest in Ipoli was bountiful once more.

Her mother had bought a large dairy cow, hired farmwives to make cheese—and even milk wine.

Many hoped to buy new goods this year to improve their lives.

Everyone eagerly awaited Teacher Shel and Hilna’s return after their studies.

Though Lofna also complained in her letter about the two Holy Knights—Perry and Talia—who kept dampening everyone’s spirits in Ipoli.

These knights had lingered in the Great Darksend Region for a whole year.

They insisted locals cut ties with outsiders, even driving away traveling merchants from the west and banning fur trades—without explanation. Just "orders from above." No one knew why.

It was a real headache for everyone.

As for Shel, this semester left him utterly worn out.

Training with the sword, crafting illustrated storybooks, writing letters to comfort Lofna back in Ipoli—all drained him completely.

Only when Lord Monroe took him to Catherine’s residence, where he’d hand his carefully made storybooks to Pope Saint An IV for her to read to the wide-eyed, eager Catherine, could he finally relax for a while in the next room.

Monroe, equally unsure how to connect with his daughter, would also slip away from Catherine and the Pope’s chamber to join Shel in the adjoining room.

Sometimes they’d share tea or play a card game.

Though they rarely spoke, they got along surprisingly well.

Monroe saw how exhausted Shel was and pulled strings to help—conveniently, as Commander of Glory City’s defenses, he could appoint personal guards funded by the HolySee, granting them salaries, benefits, and privileges.

He put Shel on the payroll.

A top-tier position.

A twenty-something novice serving as guard to a three-hundred-year-old Sword Saint? Obviously unnecessary.

Anyone could see it was a favor.

"Life back then was exhausting, but full of hope," Shel continued. "No surprises. Everything felt orderly. Just as my classmates predicted, my future seemed clear:

"Hilna would graduate smoothly in two or three years. The HolySee would send her to govern a peaceful, wealthy nation as a local bishop, building her reputation.

"I’d return to Ipoli and bring Lofna—who’d waited for me endlessly—back with me.

"Monroe had already promised: if I wished to bring Lofna from Ipoli, she could stay in his mansion. The whole house could be mine.

"Lofna could earn a Divine Academy diploma in Glory City. After her sister finished her bishop term and returned to the HolySee’s central offices, Lofna could secure a comfortable post through my and Hilna’s connections, gaining residency in Glory City. She’d even bring her mother to live comfortably.

"With Monroe and Pope Saint An IV’s backing, I’d land a proper HolySee position—maybe a laid-back guard or an official artist on the payroll.

"Ipoli, as Hilna’s hometown, would thrive under the HolySee’s patronage.

"Finally, Hilna would climb the HolySee’s ranks over decades, becoming the next Pope. With her talent, she’d expand the Eternal Church’s influence, building a religious ‘empire’—a true ‘Empress.’

"Raised by me, she’d rule with both mercy and resolve… fulfilling the future the System described. This ‘demoness’ would become a wise sovereign. My mission would end."

"But fate clearly refused to let prophecy unfold so easily. It had many twists in store. The first surprise was coming soon."

Nameless interrupted Shel here.

"Lord Shel… I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"It’s about Catherine Monroe. Um… you mentioned you’d marry her later?"

"Yes. She became my wife. Don’t look so shocked—I was married, of course."

Shel’s voice grew unusually sharp. "She regained her senses later… Catherine was always thoughtful, rational. She treated me well. Helped me greatly… You’ll understand as I continue."

"So… did Lofna and Hilna start resenting you because of this?"

"That was part of it. Anything else?"

"Well… Lord Shel, one small thing: what did your wife look like? Could you describe her briefly?"

"Pale golden hair. Very slender, but strikingly tall. A delicate oval face, large eyes—undeniably beautiful."

Shel tapped his temple. "…Actually, quite like you, Nameless. But her body wasn’t as strong as yours. Poor stamina. She often stumbled when walking. Until her death, she suffered endlessly from injuries, illnesses, and curses. I couldn’t save her."

Nameless nodded thoughtfully, then fell silent.

"What is it? More questions?"

After a hesitant pause, Nameless asked: "Lord Shel… that day we met, when you were about to leave but still took me with you—was it… was it because I look like her?"

She remembered their first encounter at the inn.

"…………"

"Lord Shel?"

"…………"

Silence stretched thickly between them in the inn room.

Finally, Shel spoke: "Yes. The way you cried out… sounded exactly like her."

"Then… did you love her?" Nameless’s voice trembled slightly.

The silence this time was heavier, longer.

Just as Nameless thought there’d be no answer, Shel spoke again.

"I don’t know what you mean by ‘love’ or ‘like.’ But I can tell you this: I’ve never felt that sudden, earth-shattering passion—like lightning and thunder crashing down in an instant.

"For me, feelings only grow with those I’ve known long, who’ve walked beside me, who’ve poured time and effort into me—and whom I’ve poured myself into.

"When my devotion meets their devotion, and theirs demands my return… they become part of my life. I love them as I love myself.

"Nameless… does that answer satisfy you?"

Nameless nodded. "I understand."

For some reason, hearing the names "Aether Monroe," "Pope Saint An IV," and "Catherine" always stirred a restless unease deep within her.